


net of years doesn't unweave

by themysticalsong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [29]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2232513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tugging the lapels of his jacket together, he casts a glance around. Tweed feels strange, out of place, especially now that he is sporting greys in abundance, but there is sometimes a flicker in her eyes that gives him hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	net of years doesn't unweave

 

 

Tugging the lapels of his jacket together, he casts a glance around. Tweed feels strange, out of place, especially now that he is sporting greys in abundance, but there is sometimes a flicker in her eyes that gives him hope.

 

"Miss Williams!" he calls out the moment he spots the familiar curls, hoping his changed accent doesn’t prove to be an obstacle. He has been here for almost a week now, but nothing seems to be working. May be it’s eyebrows.

 

He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her, even as hers look through him. They look at him, but they don’t see him. And it hurts.

 

She turns to him with a smile, none of that delightfully naughty smirk on her face, “Mr. Smith, I have asked you to call me ‘Melody’. Miss Williams seems older.”

 

A chuckle escapes him. The aching of his hearts is a dull, persistent, throb now. “Can I interest you in a cup of coffee after school?”

 

"Only if you have a time machine", she holds up the test papers in her hands with a smile, quelling all hope in his hearts, "I need to grade these and hand them to students by Thursday."

 

He wants to scream, drag her to his ship, and tell her they have time. All the time they would need.

 

_I have a time machine, River! Didn’t you want to kill Hitler using it?!_

 

He nods and flashes her a smile, hoping it comes across as the one she had once said she loved. New face, new lips, and all that. “I can come over and help.”

 

Her laugh, as bemused as it was, is still as beautiful, and like a balm to his hearts. “These are geography papers, John!”

 

"Who says a physics sub can’t check geography papers?" He rushes to correct as she arches a dainty eyebrow, "I can’t grade, but I can at least help you out. C’mon, these are only MCQs, Riv- Melody."

 

She gives him a curious look at the little slip. Days of trying, and he still slips up. Keeps forgetting she doesn’t remember anything. He is not her Doctor anymore. He is just a colleague.

 

He nervously fiddles with the piece of fabric his ship insists on shoving into his pocket as he waits for her response, smiling in relief as she sighs and nods, “Fine.” He lets out a puff of breath, missing the strange look of recognition that briefly passes her features when she turns to look back at him on her way to her classroom, “Don’t forget my coffee, John!”

 

Throughout the evening he keeps stealing glances at her. There are lines around her eyes that weren’t there before. She is older than he had last seen her. Older than she seemed to be at Trenzalore.

 

He still can’t bring himself to think about their last date.

 

There is a selfish thought. May be now he can take her to as many dates as he wants? As many as she lets him to?

 

Or, may be now is the time to leave her alone, let her be happy. With someone who is not running away every 3 seconds chasing stars. Someone who knows how to love her the way she deserves.

 

Someone with whom she doesn’t need to hide the damage.

 

He grazes a finger along the object in his pocket. Not a twelve year old anymore, he is still someone who hates endings.

 

Her groan snaps him out of his reverie. “Are you alright?”

 

She hums, a weak smile on her face as she rubs her temple. “I don’t know, John. I do this everyday, have been doing it for as long as I can remember. It should be familiar to me, a part of my routine. But it’s just—-”, she laughs softly, “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I? It’s probably just the age—”

 

His hearts melt, even as a hope flickers. “No”, he squeezes her hand, smiling when she doesn’t flinch or snatch her hand back, “I think it has something to do with your accident. May be you did something else too before it?”

 

It’s almost laughable to think of it as an accident. He doesn’t know the specific details yet, but River’s escape from data core cannot be an accident. Nothing ever is an accident with River around.

 

She only shrugs, before getting back to the papers she had been grading. He, on his part, tries to throw every reference he could think of at her. Jim the Fish, Easter Island, Planet of the Rain Gods- he even makes up a story about Berlin. He doubts she will remember everything just by his reference. All they need is a spark.

 

His hearts break a bit more as she only chuckles and waves it all off as his antics. A memory surfaces, stealing every breath in his body.

 

Was this how she felt with his younger self?

 

_"He looks at me, but looks through me."_

 

He is nearly at the door when she gently touches his arm, a hesitation he had only seen in River’s eyes when she was young once again evident in her eyes. He knows she recalls bits here and there. Nothing material, nothing that would even hint at her true identity.

 

“It seems strange, but I feel like I  _know_ you, John.” Her eyes scan his face as she confesses that his name sometimes brings a picture in her mind. Only, it looks like someone else. “It’s you. I know it’s you, but he looks nothing like you.” Her gaze shifts to his neck, as if she is looking for something. Another flicker, right there.

 

His heart lurches in his chest.  _What if—?_  Outwardly, he shrugs, “I hope I look good at least?”

 

Chuckling, she winks at him, “Oh you’re definitely a pretty boy, sweetie.”

 

His ears perk up.  _Sweetie._  It’s been centuries since he last heard that endearment in that voice. A smile forms on his face, as he winks back. “As compared to now?”

 

She hums. “I like the chin on him. And the hair. You look…”

 

“Old?” He offers helpfully, relieved with the fact that her memories are there. Hidden from her, but there, and not gone forever.

 

“Mature. Not a twelve year old.”

 

He only laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

 

After that evening, he begins to find reasons to spend time with her, during school hours as well as after school. Takes her out on dates every other evening. Brings her flowers even as she throws him curious glances, scans his face for some clue about his behaviour.

 

It is all horrible domestic, out of character for him. The urge to fly away is a constant buzz under his skin, especially on days when it seems nothing he does is going to bring her memories back-  _bring his River back._ He stubbornly tells himself he is not going to run away. Not when their timelines are almost parallel. Not when she needs his help.

 

Not when he needs her.

 

He takes her to the Tardis, tells her about himself. The way she quietly takes in everything, an awed look in her eyes as she looks around, he thinks  _may be soon._

 

The humming of his ship under her hands, soothes her. Confuses her. Something she recalls- her parents, orphanage, studying archaeology- somethings still remain foggy. He is a part of the life she doesn’t remember anymore.

 

_See me, River, please!_

 

So he does the only thing he knows. Runs with her. Hopes it will help her regain her memories, remember who she is. He takes her to the planets they have already been to. There are mistakes he needs to amend throughout the universe, and he does so with her by his side. It’s selfish, he knows it, but he finally has River traveling with him, even if in this way.

 

It isn’t until days later when he finds her sitting on the stairs in the console room, his bow tie tightly clutched in her hands, tears sliding down her cheeks. In two steps, she is standing in front of him. “River.”

 

Her lips curl up ever so slowly, and he realises he had missed that smile. Beaming, he leans down to kiss her, gaping in surprise when she slaps him. “River!”

 

“Tell me, sweetie, would you have come here, tried to find me had your ship not abandoned you here?”

 

He probably wouldn’t have. “No.”

 

“At least your ship knows how to be useful when you are being so useless”, she pats the console softly, before smirking at him, “Now are you going to kiss me or not?”

 

There are things they need to talk about. Questions he wants to ask, but for now-

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
